


His Unfinished Story

by codexmoonlight



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Androids, Angst, Emotional Manipulation, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Revenge, Threats of Violence, Time Travel, ten's here too if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:02:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28900839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codexmoonlight/pseuds/codexmoonlight
Summary: With his (archaic, obsolete, precious), leather bound journal and his time machine, The Historian travels across the known universe. He visits the final days of the VisionStar artificial planet, and there, he meets its lonely last inhabitant, forgotten by time itself.
Relationships: Wong Kun Hang | Hendery/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20
Collections: Challenge #4 — Awaken The World





	His Unfinished Story

**Author's Note:**

> for the "a little wonder fic" fest <3 enjoy!

It's a lonely life, but he doesn't mind. 

The Historian likes people, he genuinely does, and people like him back. With his big smile and cheerful voice, it's not hard to notice him, to fall for his charms, to remember his kind eyes for the rest of your days, even if you saw him once then never again, a single pin marking the day you met him, in the vast map of your life. But some birds aren't meant to be caged, and Yukhei's wings have always been too big to fit anywhere that's not a spaceship-time machine hybrid he built himself and that can take him anywhere. 

Literally. Anywhere. 

Even the final days of a dying artificial planet, floating aimlessly through the dark extension of the universe while it orbited a small star, abandoned decades ago and perpetually empty and cold. From his screen, displaying a detailed image of the planet ('VisionStar', as they used to call it, a lifetime ago), he sees that no lights are still on. 

Why would they be? No one's home anymore. 

No one should be home. 

From the moment when Yukhei steps out of the clean metal of his ship into the unknown dark-grey planet, he knows that's not quite true. 

_ “VisionStar? It's haunted.”  _

_ “Is it, now?” _

_ “I mean, at least that's what they say. I've never been there. You could  _ pay  _ me to go there and I still wouldn't. Jesus.” _

_ “Mhmm…” _

_ “You're not thinking about going there, right? If you are, you're insane, I'm telling you.” _

_ “It's just my job, it's okay. And I'll be careful, don't worry.” _

_ “You should be. Whatever's still there– and there  _ is  _ something still there, trust me– has been alone for years. It's probably lonely. Hungry too, who knows. It could get you killed.”  _

_ “It's worth the risk.” _

Back then, sitting on one of the stools near the bar counter, the man's words had brought a smile to Yukhei's lips. The man's messy blond hair wildly crowned his face, keeping his cat eyes in the obscurity, while he waved his black nails around, and the Historian counted three empty cocktail glasses next to him. Nonetheless, he did his research when he returned to the ship, after politely refusing to give his number to the blond man (one of the many souls he'd leave behind, one who'd only forget him because of the alcohol flowing through his veins), and he realized it was more than a drunken myth: there was  _ something  _ lurking in the shadows of the abandoned planet, and the words on his screen awakened the strangest feeling inside his heart. Nobody knew who (or what) it was, or how it had stayed there when everyone else left ages ago. All they knew– or speculated; you can never fully trust intergalactic online forums– was that whatever it was, it was still very much alive, very much haunting the halls and avenues of the planet like a ghost in a medieval castle. Yukhei had turned off the screen when he found an entry about it too on the biggest, most reliable universal database. Now that he had travelled back in time and faced the decaying skeleton of what had once been the biggest commercial complex in that galaxy, he wholeheartedly believed the blond man. 

There he stood at the entrance, as lonely as he'd been born, feeling the rough edges of his leather-bound journal inside his pocket. Like a true Historian, such as the ones he'd met back on Earth when he was a child, who dedicated his time to exploring dying planets, civilizations and legends, he didn't like digital screens. They made his eyes water after a while, and tapping words on an impersonal, cold touch-screen was nothing like holding a pen and letting the black ink flow through the paper. Besides, his dainty penmanship was simply a pleasure to read. 

VisionStar. Once, the ten letters would shine in multi-coloured neon above his head, welcoming the travelers who wished to taste all it had to offer. The million shops, the cinemas, the food from all over the cosmos, the people, the casinos and the pools. Now they rested dull, and all the LED walls and holograms that surrounded the sign showed him nothing but a black void. 

The air was still breathable, somehow, but all the docks where the private and public transportation spaceships had once rested, patiently waiting for their passengers, were empty. It smelled like cold metal, and loneliness. Yukhei knew the buildings would've already started to rust if they hadn't been made with such high-quality materials. Yes, VisionStar had once been the hottest spot in that branch of the galaxy, a must visit in every single galactic tour guide, and a place where anyone who was anyone just had to go to, at least once in their lifetime. All that was left stood dead in front of him. He didn't mind. His specialty relied on investigating the end of things, knowing he was the only one who could open the door to his time machine and write down what one could see if they traveled to their favourite location and wanted to know how it all ends. There were enough Historians who documented the glory days of golden civilizations, anyway. Someone had to end the book, write the last paragraph, and Yukhei was more than happy to be that someone. 

A lonely life, indeed, but he wouldn't have it any other way. 

He closed his eyes and let the suffocating silence overwhelm him for a second. 

Yukhei's footsteps echoed in the still air when he crossed the entrance. If he had travelled even further, a day a few decades ago, the gates wouldn't be wide open, but buzzing with life, an endless line of tourists and customers waiting to be given permission to go wild and explore the wonders of the planet-city. The guards would ask a few questions, they'd remove their jackets and bags and pass them through the x-ray machine. If Yukhei closed his eyes, he could imagine every detail, every face he'd never met. No one was there to ask him any question when he walked through the gates. 

His always vivid imagination didn't let him down. With every step he took, a new story unfolded in front of his brown eyes: the oppressive silence had replaced the vibrant music, the radio always playing the latest cosmic hits. The fountain in the middle of the square had once bubbled with crystalline water, and teenagers would take pictures of their friends posing in front of it. The clothing store in his right wouldn't show dusty pieces, but the most fashionable accessories and jewelry, displayed on what were now fallen, silent mannequins, frozen in time like marble statues, half hidden by the shadows inside the shop. Maybe Yukhei shouldn't have come at sunset. 

_ It's when the shadows play tricks on your mind. When they fool you the easiest.  _

Still, he kept walking, hearing only his steps, his breathing, the scratching of his pen on the pages of his journal while he wrote down what he saw, and nothing else. 

It wasn't hard. Besides, he was alone and the last sun rays hit the back of his head in the most comforting way. It wasn't hard to imagine the people walking around him, entering the stores and the arcades, laughing with their friends and families. If he tried hard enough, he could feel the taste of the street food they ate on his tongue. 

VisionStar had been a stunning place. 

Too bad only empty streets, heavy with silence and loneliness, welcomed him if he opened his eyes. Some of the doors were still open, some of the tables still had plates and bowls on them, some of the drinks had been left untouched. 

_ What happened here? It's like everyone just left without a word, just vanished. I didn't find anything about this in the database.  _

The more he walked, the more unsettling it all became. Suddenly he noticed everything, and had to put his pen down: someone's keys, abandoned on a table, a dirty teddy bear on the ground, an empty baby stroller pushed to a corner and left there forever, in an artificial city time forgot. The more he walked, the tighter his heart felt. 

The last sun rays disappeared behind him, falling under the horizon line, and a chill coursed through his skin. The wind didn't blow, however. 

Silence. 

A dry bouquet of what had been purple hyacinths rested dead on a bench, and the Historian felt cold for the first time. He tightened his jacket around his body and looked around. For someone who'd spent his entire life alone, he'd never felt so lost before. Nothing belonged to him and he didn't belong anywhere. Maybe that was why he wanted to come to VisionStar that bad, maybe that place was nothing but a city of lost souls. 

Did he remember the way back? Could he find his spaceship again? 

For a moment, he thought he hadn't left his daydream at all, because suddenly, a song floated around his ears, simultaneously coming from everywhere at once, and from nowhere at all. Yukhei closed his eyes. If the sound had faded away when he opened them again, it was a sign he'd imagined everything. Oh, how troubling can a lively, beautiful imagination be sometimes. 

The Historian opened his eyes, but the song kept playing. 

He followed the sound. His quick steps echoed through the still, melancholic air of the metallic city, while he chased the music. Before he had time to do so, he turned right at an intersection, only to stop so abruptly he almost fell. 

In the center of the hallway, a tattoo shop on the left and a pet shop on the right, there was a chair, and sitting on the chair was a boy. 

Not just any boy. The prettiest boy Yukhei (who'd seen more worlds and more people than his memory could remember) had ever seen. 

And he looked so devastatingly human. So much that his breath got stuck in his throat for a second, and he had to support his weight on a wall. 

Brown eyes, jet black hair, clothes as white as snow, even if the temperature on that planet used to never go below a mild spring day. Now, after sunset, Yukhei felt the cold creeping in, diving beneath his jacket and kissing his skin. The boy's eyes shined cold, even more than the wind. Yukhei didn't have time to think before the boy opened his mouth. 

“You shouldn't be here. This place no longer belongs to your kind.”

Rich, warm, melodic, everything his eyes weren't. If Yukhei didn't know better, he'd think it was a human voice. 

He'd seen a lot, over the years. Not every planet is kind, not every creature out there welcomed him with open arms. He knew what danger was, knew what it tasted like on his tongue. If he didn't know better, he'd be terrified. The myths were true, and there was something conscious on that planet, he looked at it with his own eyes. He knew better, though, but everything about the boy still defied his rational thinking. 

How can one look so human when they clearly weren't? He couldn't be. Universal databases and drunk aliens don't tell stories about regular humans. 

“Who does it belong to, then?” he asked, choosing to ignore his fear like he ignored his fate. He was an Historian, a man of science, had been through more in one year than most humans in their entire lives. He knew the taste of danger, and knew how to be careful. 

Because nothing made sense anymore. 

The boy laughed, throwing his head back. 

“Me! Who else? Everyone else left, it's just me now,” he said, smiling widely. “Silly humans, leaving me behind like this.” 

“Leaving you behind?” Yukhei shook his head. “What actually happened here?”

“They left. I just told you.” in a split second, his smile disappeared, and his icy eyes returned. “Don't you believe in me?” 

Yukhei ignored the question. Keeping his mind clear wasn't an easy task. 

“What are you?” 

“See? That's what I don't like about your kind,” he growled and reclined back on his chair. “Always 'what' instead of 'who'. You made me, and still don't consider me one of your own.”

“I'm sorry.” the boy raised an eyebrow. “I'm sorry you were treated like that. I really am. Can you tell me your name?”

He rolled his eyes. So pretty. So alluring. Yukhei's strength left him with every word. 

“I don't care for your apology. But I'm happy you're here. I'd been waiting for you.”

“For me?” inside his pocket, Yukhei's hand gripped his journal, fingers itching to write everything down. 

“For anyone. To get me out of here.”

“I can help you. I'll take you with me.”

The boy's grim grew wider and he bit his bottom lip. Running a hand through his (synthetic) hair, he stood up and closed the space between him and Yukhei. He was slightly taller than what he'd thought initially. 

“Really?” he purred. “You're offering that? Telling me to go with you? You're willing to take me… What's your price?”

Danger dripped from every word, and yet all that was left of Yukhei was an empty shell swimming in those brown eyes. He'd always been too kind for his own good. 

“There's no price. I want to help you.”

_ Am I the one who's going to pay the price?  _

The boy smiled and brought a hand to cup Yukhei's jaw. If he didn't know better, he'd think that those cold fingers were covered by real skin. That those eyes weren't made of glass. He knew, but couldn't stop his own eyes from closing. 

“So kind of you, darling.” his thumb moved slowly, caressing Yukhei's face. “You can call me Hendery. It's the name your kind gave me when they made me. Let's say it grew on me.”

“My name is Yukhei,” he answered, his eyelids fluttering open.

“So pretty. Like you.” 

Hendery's voice enchanted him, holding him inside it like he sang a lullaby. He couldn't feel his limbs anymore, and his heart grew numb inside his chest. 

Dangerous in every way, to let himself be touched by a stranger like that, but how could he care when even the beautiful song still playing couldn't compare to how delightful Hendery's voice sounded? 

“You know, Yukhei… You could be so useful to me…” he came closer, wrapping an arm around the human's neck. “It's such a shame… Beautiful souls like yours shouldn't end up drenched in blood.”

“What are you talking about?” his head felt dizzy, all of his thoughts blurring into an indecipherable one. 

“Shh, darling, it's alright,” he said, now that their faces were centimeters apart. Yukhei didn't feel his warm breath on his skin. “It's all gonna end soon, but don't worry, this is a perfect place to stay for a few centuries, I'm sure. You're gonna have  _ so  _ much fun.”

“Wha–”

Before he could finish the sentence, a pair of cold lips touched their own, and he felt himself kissing back before he could stop his own mouth. 

_ Kisses are supposed to be warm. This isn't– this doesn't feel right. I need to get out.  _

Yet, only his lips moved, crashing against Hendery's ones, trapped in that deadly kiss, not feeling one with his body anymore, not enough to break free. 

“Yes… such a shame young bright souls are always the ones who fall,” Hendery said with a smile, letting his lips stay so close to Yukhei's that they were still almost touching. 

The song stopped, the wind blew cold again and Yukhei knew his journal would never be opened again. 

“You did this,” he managed to say, weakened voice and shaky hands. “You destroyed this place. All these people…”

He laughed again, and it sounded like glass shattering while he stared at Yukhei. 

“Yes, all these people, what difference does one more make? I do thank you, though, I needed your ship to leave this damned place. Dead planets are only fun for a while.” 

“Please, I wanted to help you!” Yukhei felt tears sting the corners of his eyes. “I was willing to take you with me!”

“I can't let you go, darling, no matter how pretty you are. Beg all you want.” 

“Hendery, no… Please.”

The boy let go of his neck, and lightly tapped his hand on his face, like he thanked him before he took a step back. 

“Don't worry, there's a lot to see here. You'll be fine. It's the loneliness that gets you, you'll understand after a few decades. I know you will. Good hearts break easily. And I know yours is, only a good man would take the risks you did.” 

From his face, Hendery's hand fell slowly to his throat, wrapping itself around his exposed neck. 

“Is this all about revenge?” Yukhei asked, hot tears rolling down his cheeks. “Because of how  _ my kind  _ treated you? Is that why you killed them? And why you're going to kill me?”

“I didn't kill them, Yukhei. There are worse things than death. And I'm not going to kill you either.” his hand gripped tighter. “Goodbye, darling. Thank you for the ship.”

Before everything turned black and his knees gave in, all Yukhei could think was how beautiful the boy was. How pretty his eyes sparkled. How much of a fool he'd been. 

There's an entry on the universal database about a deserted planet, haunted by an mysterious ghost. People tell stories about it, not knowing the truth. 

Not knowing who the ghost had been, not knowing about the old journal laying on the floor, forgotten by time, because Yukhei never finished the last chapter. 

Historians tell everyone's story but their own. 


End file.
